


Heart Clogging

by Baphrosia (spuffy_luvr)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, F/M, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-25 01:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4941007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spuffy_luvr/pseuds/Baphrosia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunnydale is suffering from a slew of curses:  Buffy’s trapped in the wrong body, Angel’s trapped in the wrong species, poor grammar and even worse fashion choices abound, questionable liaisons are formed alongside an obsession for Lucky Charms and Liam Neeson, and a vampire is forced to Riverdance.  Our heroes are in trouble – it must be a Tuesday on the Hellmouth.</p><p>Written for Elysian Field’s 2015 Challenge Month in response to Puddinhead’s Heart Clogging challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What the Heck is a Pronoun, Anyway?

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve wanted to write Puddin’s “Heart Clogging” challenge for a few years now, but haven’t had the courage to try. When Challenge Month was announced at Elysian Fields, it was clear which challenge I had to fill. 
> 
> In case the summary didn’t give it away, this story is crack!fic. Pure unadulterated ridiculousness. Please do not expect anything more from it. I sent it to my beta to see how many pronouns I missed, and their head exploded from trying to correct the gaping plot holes, OOC behavior, extensive tropes, head-hopping, and overall bad writing. I have shamelessly ignored every single one of their suggestions. (Sorry, Fox.) 
> 
> Challenge requirements will be posted at the end of the story as per tradition, or you can cheat and prepare yourself for what is to come by following the link at the top of the chapter.

**[Challenge Link](http://dark-solace.org/elysian/modules/challenges/challenges.php?chalid=225) **

 

 

What the Heck is a Pronoun, Anyway?

 

 

“College sucks,” Buffy said.

“ _Hellmouths_ suck,” Willow corrected.

“Don’t know.  Pronoun curses never happened while in high school.  What kind of college professor hands out a pronoun curse to teach students how to write more creatively on the first day of class, anyhow?  And then accidentally makes the curse affect the entire town?”

“W –”  Willow frowned, mouth moving, but no sound issuing forth.  “Argh!  The frustrating part is how the curse only works on students –”  Willow got stuck again.  “On students with a complete understanding of pronouns.  People unclear on pronouns are spared.”  Willow gave Buffy a significant look.

“What talking about?  Can’t use pronouns either, here.  See, with the lack of pronoun usage?  It’s not the fault of Buffy.”

“Invalid sentence.  Pronouns used.”

“What?  What pronoun?”

“Just used a pronoun again.”

“Did not!  Wh –”  Buffy cut off mid-word, mouth moving but no sound issuing forth.  “That word is a pronoun?”  With a glare, Buffy said, “Thanks for pointing the word out.  Now it’s gone from the vocabulary.”

Willow sighed, and refrained from pointing out further pronoun usage.  Buffy was already hard enough to understand most days, even with pronouns.  “Sometimes that word is an adjective and not a pronoun,” Willow said in conciliation.  If the word is followed by a noun.” 

Buffy’s forehead creased in thought as Willow rapped at Giles’ door.  “Hi, Giles,” Willow said when the door opened.  “Has the pronoun curse affected the resident of this house as well?”

“Dear lord,” Giles said.  “A curse is the reason for this inability to speak clearly and concisely?  How interesting!  And frustrating.”

“Frustrating is the opinion of this girl,” Willow said, following Giles inside to the piles of books on the table. 

Buffy followed as well, forehead still creased.

“The curse isn’t affecting only residents,” Giles said.  “The curse has affected even the books!  All pronouns have disappeared from all books.  And,” Giles added, “in the opinion of this man, the entire multi-verse.  Even a writer reporting on this situation, or a storyteller novelizing these events, would be affected.”

“Not a single person anywhere in the multi-verse can use pronouns?” Willow said in horror.  “Time for research!”

“Indeed.”  Giles sat and returned to leafing through the closest book.

Buffy sat too.  “If that word is a pronoun, it can’t be the only one missed by this Slayer.”

Giles looked at Buffy.  “Indeed.  The Slayer used a pronoun just now.”  Giles turned to Willow.  “How can Buffy still use pronouns?” 

“Which word was a pronoun?” Buffy interrupted.  “No, wait.  Don’t want the same thing to happen as earlier.”

“The curse only works when the speaker knows the word is a pronoun,” Willow said to Giles.

Giles removed eyeglasses and began to polish with thoughtful deliberation.  “Fascinating.”

The door burst open.  “How come everbody’s talking like Yoda?” Xander said.  “I can’t make heads or tails of it.  Is it something in the water?”

Willow looked at Giles and said, “Today, Xander’s lack of pronoun knowledge might be very useful.  Xander can communicate clearly when other people can’t.”

Giles’ irritation turned to fond regard.  “Point taken.”

“Well?” Xander said.  “Isn’t anybody going to explain what’s going on to me?”

After Willow’s halting attempt to explain the origin of the pronoun curse, followed by hours of research, Buffy stood up.  “Willow.  Books must be bought for psychology class at the bookstore.  Coming with?”

Willow stood as well.  “Yes.  Good luck with the research.  The female persons will return as soon as possible.”

Xander began to protest, until Buffy added, “With donuts!”

Giles looked up.  “Jelly-filled?”

“Every single one,” Buffy said.

Giles and Willow exchanged looks, but did not point out the pronoun used.  “Hurry back.  This curse must be ended quickly,” Giles said instead.

 

 


	2. I am He as You are He as You are Me (and We are all Together)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am the eggman/ they are the eggmen/ I am the walrus. (Or: Chapter title is from the Beatles song, "I am the Walrus".) So many beautiful pronouns. *sniffle*

 

I am He as You are He as You are Me (and We are all Together)

 

 

At the bookstore, Buffy reached up high for a textbook, and accidentally knocked over the entire pile of texts.  As the books fell, the girls heard, “Ow!  Ow ow ow!” accompanying the thumps on the other side of the book rack.

Buffy and Willow peeked around the corner, and Buffy winced at the sight of the tall blond man squatting on the floor, head in hand.  “Did the falling books cause pain?” Buffy said.  “Sorry!  An accident.  The books were just too high, and then everything was bad.”

“Not a problem,” said the man, rubbing at a lump with a wince.

Willow frowned in sympathy, then perked up.  “A solution can be had.  Please allow to help!”  Willow reached forward and placed a hand on the man’s head.

Buffy, sensing the magic about to happen, grabbed Willow’s other hand.  “Willow, no!  Magic bad, especially with other curses already in the mix!  Stop!”

Too late.  A puff of smoke accompanied Willow’s, “ _Sano_.”  Buffy gasped, then fell to the floor at the same time as the blond man, unconscious.

“Oh no!” Willow said.  “Maybe Buffy was right and a problem has been caused.”  Willow looked around, frantic.  “A solution must be found, but what solution?”

To Willow’s relief, Buffy groaned and sat up.  “That knock on the head must’ve been harder than appearances would have the participants in this accident believe.  Unconsciousness was not an expectation.”

“Buffy?  Feeling okay now?”

Buffy looked at Willow.  “Buffy is a person unknown to – ”  Buffy stopped speaking and looked down, surprised, examining the body the voice was issuing from.  “Holy smokes.  This body is not the body expected to be seen.”  Buffy tried to say other words, got stuck, and then tapped Buffy’s chest and said, “Riley.  Not Buffy.”  Buffy pointed at the man on the ground, eyes wide.  “Uh-oh!  Riley!”  Buffy pointed back and forth to the man on the ground and to Buffy’s chest.  “Riley in this body!  Not Buffy!”

Willow’s eyes widened too.  “Switched?”  Willow tapped Buffy’s arm.  “Name is Riley?”

“Yes!” Buffy said.

No, _not_ Buffy, Willow thought.  _Riley_. 

“Then Buffy...?” Willow said. 

Riley-in-Buffy shrugged, and pointed to the man on the floor.  “Maybe?”

“Probably,” Willow agreed.  “Oh, poop!”  Willow felt guilty, and raised a hand to cover a wide-open mouth.

“How did this switch happen?” Riley-in-Buffy said, starting to look panicked now.

Before Willow could answer, the man on the floor groaned and sat up, and engaged in a vigorous eye-rubbing.  “That hurt!  Did the man get angry and punchy?”

“Hey,” Riley-in-Buffy said.  “Pronoun usage!  Is the female friend not affected?”

“The female friend is affected,” Willow said.  “But the curse only works on persons aware of speaking pronouns.  If unclear a word is a pronoun, the person is unaffected.”

“Oh,” Riley-in-Buffy said.  “Understood.”

Meanwhile, Buffy was not-so-quietly panicking.  “Something’s wrong here!  These hands are not Buffy-hands!  This voice is not Buffy-voice!  Willow, has something happened to Buffy?”  Buffy-in-Riley looked up and spotted Riley-in-Buffy.  “That body!  That face!  It’s –”  Buffy got stuck on the possessive pronoun and made gasping sounds, unable to find another way to word the sentence.

Willow made an apologetic face.  “Switched.”

“Switched?” Buffy-in-Riley said, turning Riley’s deep rumble into an anxious squeak.  “Fix now!”

“Don’t know how,” Willow said.  “To Giles?”

“To Giles now!” Buffy said, jumping up and grabbing the Buffy-body’s arm with dismay.  Buffy looked down at the person now much, much shorter than this tall body Buffy was inhabiting.  “Name?”

“Riley,” the person said with Buffy’s voice, and Buffy shuddered at the weirdness.  Buffy turned to Willow.  “Hurry!”

“Hurrying.”  Grabbing Riley-in-Buffy’s other arm, Willow added to Riley, “Follow closely and don’t get lost.”

“Don’t understand how a switch could happen,” Riley said.  “Switching bodies is like... magic.  Not possible.  Magic is not real!”

“Discuss possible and real after fixed,” Willow said.  “Lack of ability to use pronouns should also be impossible, no?”  Willow noticed Buffy had fallen behind and was talking to another student.  “Buffy!” Willow called.  “Catch up!”

“Hold on,” Buffy called back.  “First, this shirt must be acquired and cherished.”

“Huh?” Willow said, hurrying back to Buffy-in-Riley and towing Riley-in-Buffy along.  “Confusion rising.”

“Listen,” Buffy said to the other student, reaching to grasp the shirt.  “Must have!  Will die without!”

“No,” the student said while backing away.  “The shirt is a personal possession and will not be given away!”

“But Notre Dame!  Fighting Irish!  Tiny leprechaun with raised fists!  A- _dor_ -able and necessary to life!  Must have!”

“Crazy person!” the student yelled and began to run.

Buffy-in-Riley gave chase.  “Come back!  Please!”

Willow grabbed Buffy’s arm, and was towed along in the wake of Buffy’s new oversized body.  “Buffy, stop!  To Giles, remember?”

“But Buffy want that shirt,” Buffy pouted.

“Willow will get a Fighting Irish shirt for Buffy later,” Willow said, still confused but trying to play along.  “Come to Giles’ house now.”

“Okay,” Buffy said, still pouting.  “But first, a stop to purchase Lucky Charms.  Buffy is hungry!  Must be this giant body.”

“Hey!” Riley said.  “Not giant!  Just manly!”

“Whatever.  By the way, a warning.  Tampon needs to be changed soon.  Looks like it’s up to Riley to take of it.”

Riley-in-Buffy turned green.  Willow turned a little green too.  Buffy-in-Riley walked ahead, unconcerned and blithely humming “Sunday, Bloody Sunday.”

 


	3. Who Knew Pronouns Could be so Sexy?

 

Who Knew Pronouns Could be so Sexy?

 

 

By the time Riley, Buffy, and Willow had arrived back at Giles’ block, Buffy had hummed the entire U2 song list, and was now sniffling quietly.  “Missing Angel,” Buffy said.  “Irish Angel with Irish eyes and sweet, soft Irish voice.”  Buffy broke out into a forlorn rendition of “Danny Boy”.

“Didn’t know Buffy knew all those songs,” Willow said, partly in amazement, but mostly in irritation.  Willow wished Buffy would stop singing.  Riley’s deep voice was beginning to grate.  Willow held up the shopping bag filled with Irish Spring soap, Irish soda bread, Lucky Charms, ten pounds of potatoes, and a corned beef.  Why Willow was carrying the heavy bag with a strong man and an even stronger Slayer around, Willow wasn’t sure.  Perhaps out of guilt for the switch.  “Why is Buffy obsessed with all things Irish now?”

“No clue,” Riley said.  “Irish heritage coming to the forefront?”

“No Irish heritage in Buffy that is known,” Willow said with a headshake.

“Perhaps the host body’s heritage?”

“Riley is Irish?”

“Riley Patrick Finn,” Riley said with a wry smile.  “Generations of Irish forefathers behind that name.  But there’s been no wearing of the green from this man.  Until now.”

Willow and Riley looked at Buffy-in-Riley.  Riley’s body now sported a bright green hat, a green shirt, and a ‘Kiss __ , _’m Irish’ button (pronouns faded out) left over from the last St. Patrick’s Day.  Buffy had found the button in the gas station convenience store. 

Even Riley’s shoelaces were now green.

“Deeply humiliated,” Riley-in-Buffy said, head hanging low.

“Buffy can go visit Angel!” Buffy-in-Riley said suddenly, visage brightening, and turned to Riley.  “Have car?  Have driver’s license?”

“No!” Riley said, rather forcefully.  “Fix switch first.”

“Buffy could be kissing sweet Irish lips!”

Riley and Willow stared at Buffy, Riley aghast, Willow imagining Angel’s reaction to this large man appearing and demanding to kiss sweet Irish lips.  Willow snickered, then decided to be a good friend and attempt distraction.  “The radio announcer said Riverdance is coming to Sunnydale tomorrow night, Buffy.  Maybe tickets are still available.”

Buffy-in-Riley stopped still in the middle of the street, eyes wide and hopeful.  “Riverdance?”  Buffy turned and began to run the other way, lumbering down the street.

“Buffy!  Where going?” Willow shouted.

“Need to purchase tickets now before all tickets sell out!” Buffy shouted back.  “No time to waste!  Take Riley to Giles and fix the switch.  Buffy will join the research after tickets are purchased.”

Riley gazed at the tall man disappearing down the street.  “Give chase?”

Willow shrugged.  “Buffy isn’t very good at research anyway.  Let Buffy buy tickets.  A solution might be found by then.”

With unsure expression, Riley-in-Buffy followed Willow to Giles’.  Willow rapped once, then threw open the door.

And stared.

“Whuh?” Willow said.  “Habba huh?”

Giles, blushing furiously, jerked away from Xander.  “Events are not as events appear!”

Willow continued to stare, mouth hanging open.

Xander finished re-buttoning open shirt buttons, then ran a hand through disheveled hair.  “Turns out my ability to talk in full sentences is very – er –”

Giles gazed longingly at Xander.  “Erotic, dear boy.”

“Right,” Xander squeaked, blushing as well.  “He finds it erotic.  Who knew pronouns, whatever those pesky little devils are, could be so sexy?”

Willow raised a hand to indicate knowledge of pronoun sexiness, then thought better of that action.  “Repressing all memories.”  Willow swallowed, then motioned to Riley-in-Buffy standing in the doorway, staring at Xander and Giles with mouth agape.  “By the way, another problem has occurred.”

 


	4. I am the Lord of the Dance Said He

 

I am the Lord of the Dance Said He

 

 

At the Sunnydale Civic Auditorium, Buffy waited impatiently for the line to move forward.  The line moved so slowly toward the single open ticket window, Buffy thought death-by-boredom was likely to occur before tickets could be purchased.  Buffy decided to pass the time by going through the wallet found in Riley’s pants pocket.  For a brief moment, Buffy was distracted by what else could be touched through the pocket, but the sensation was too strange to continue exploring for long.  The exploration also made Buffy realize the need to pee would soon become overwhelming, and Buffy wanted to ignore that need.  Peeing meant leaving the line, which meant losing the spot in line, which meant possibly not getting tickets.  Such an outcome was inconceivable. 

If Buffy didn’t get to go to Riverdance or see Michael Flatley... Buffy would die, most surely.

The line snaked closer.  Around the corner of the auditorium and on the other side of a chain-link fence, Buffy could see the trailers for the dancers.  The door to one trailer opened, and a man stepped out.  Because the door opened into deep shadow, Buffy didn’t have a very good view.  There was an impression of dark, silky pants and a loose white shirt, deep, glossy black dance shoes, and the face of an angel, puffing away at a cigarette, before the man was hidden by the shadows.

Buffy stared longingly at the spot where the man stood.  A dancer.  An actual Riverdance dancer, right there just waiting to be spoken to.  Perhaps waiting to hold hands.  Or even – naughty mind – waiting for a kiss from a fan!  Buffy blushed and fluttered in place, torn with indecision.

Tickets meant being in the audience, and getting to watch an entire night of dancing goodness.

But kissing a real Riverdance dancer – maybe even Michael Flatley? – would be so much better than being in the audience!

Buffy hummed a snatch of “Finnegan’s Wake” and ate another handful of Lucky Charms (stupid oversized always hungry body!) while debating the best course of action.

The man called out, “Oi, hungry here, mate!  Could do with spot of breakfast!”

Buffy knew that voice!  Spike was a Riverdancer?  Spike of killed-two-Slayers fame?  Spike of pain-in-Buffy’s-ass fame?  The evil deeds of Spike’s past were washed clean in Buffy’s mind.  Spike was a _dancer_.  And Spike knew Buffy.  Surely Spike would be as happy to see Buffy as Buffy was to see Spike.  Right?

Spike, bored with waiting for food, executed a quick clogging routine followed by a cross-kick, a spin, a second kick, and a rapid-fire tap-tap-tap too fast for mortal eyes to follow.

Buffy’s mind was made up.  “Spike!” Buffy called, slipping through the gap in the fence and into the shadows.  “Spike!  Dance again, please!” Buffy said, eyes wide, heart racing with anticipation.

Wearing a nervous look, Spike backed up against the trailer, hands up.  “Look, mate, don’t know –”  Spike got stuck on the pronoun and growled in frustration.  “Bloody Hellmouth.  Can’t let a fellow speak normal.”  Spike edged away from Buffy-in-Riley, tugging the white shirtsleeve from Buffy’s hand.  “Bugger off, eh, and leave a man in peace.  Not signing autographs today.”

With a headshake, Buffy said, “Spike, it’s Buffy.  This body doesn’t look like Buffy, but promise.  Buffy.”

Eyes narrowed, Spike scoffed, “Not bloody likely.  Buffy wouldn’t be so happy to see ol’ Spike, for one thing.  For two, can’t prove such a claim.”

Buffy sighed, and began to count off points on fingers.  “Nice work, love.  St. Vigorous.  Ruined doilies.  Halloween costume became real.  Order of Taraka – _lame_ , by the way.”  Buffy switched to the other hand.  “Kidnapped Angel for blood to heal Dru.  Rather be fighting – mutual.  Church organ.  Um... Happy meals on legs!  Dru in exchange for Giles.”  Buffy leaned closer to look Spike in the eyes.  With Buffy’s new body, looking into Spike’s eyes meant looking down.  Weird.  “Want help because girlfriend’s a big ho.  Sod it, friends are in the factory.”  Arms crossed triumphantly, Buffy leaned back and said, “Ringing any bells?”

“Not convinced yet.  The Slayer still wouldn’t be happy to see an arch-nemesis in town,” Spike countered.

Buffy reached for Spike’s sleeve once more.  “But Spike’s in town to dance.  To _River_ dance,” Buffy said with starry eyes.  “How?  Why?”  Buffy added, coyly, “ _Can_ Buffy have Spike’s autograph?”

“Bloke’s sodding insane,” Spike muttered, easing the other way.  Buffy followed, and Spike sighed.  “Look, the story of how Spike came to be here is a sordid tale all around, not fit for tender ears.  Push off.  Let a fellow have some space before being forced to dance for the crowds, eh?”

Buffy gasped.  “Forced?”

“What, thought dancing was a career change?  The Slayer of Slayers chose to become Vampire Clogger Extraordinaire for a lark – and not even as the star, but as understudy for that Flatley ass?  Not a chance in hell.  Was sold into slavery by Dru as punishment for going soft,” Spike said, lip curled in disgust.  “Unbreakable contract.”

“But why would Dru consider Riverdance a punishment?” Buffy said.  “Riverdance is _wonderful_.”

“Says the giant walking asparagus,” Spike said, eyeing Buffy’s greenery.  “Look mate, tried to be nice, but...”  Spike shifted into gameface and attacked.  Buffy, unimpressed, didn’t move, and Spike screamed and dropped to the ground, panting. 

“Ow!  Bloody, buggering...” 

Buffy dropped to the ground too, and put a worried hand on Spike’s arm.  “Okay now?”

“Non-aggression clause,” Spike gasped.  “No hurting the fans.”

Buffy stroked Spike’s head, fingers tangling in curls, and hoped Spike would be okay to dance soon.  When Spike seemed to have recovered, Buffy, still not comprehending, said, “But how can Riverdancing be a punishment?”

Eyes distant with unseen horrors, Spike shuddered under Buffy’s hand.  “Riverdance is torture of the worst sort.”

Buffy petted Spike a moment longer, then leaned in and in all seriousness asked, “Does Spike like The Irish Rovers?”

 

* * *

 

 

**A/N:** I sort of thought everybody knew the Irish Rovers and their rendition of **"[Lord of the Dance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WV8fy2s8_C8)"**.  (clicky link)

Turns out they're a Canadian thing.  Who knew?  Guess my roots are showing.  :)

 


	5. It's Not Easy Being Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I the only person who really wants a Dawn POV song!fic set to "It's Not Easy Being Green"?
> 
> Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if one already exists...

 

It’s Not Easy Being Green

 

 

“No, no, no,” the green ball of energy hummed.  “You cannot make me human.  Or give me to – _her_.”  In a scrying glass help up by a monk, the ball of energy observed a woman puttering about an art gallery in a lime green pantsuit.  “I refuse.”

“Refusal is not an option,” the monk said.  “Glory draws closer, and The Key and all worlds are in dire peril.”

“I think the multi-verse is already in peril even without Glory,” the ball of energy hummed.  “This Slayer that you say will defend me is currently trapped in a soldier’s body, making googly-eyes at a vampire.  We won’t even talk about what Spike’s sire just did to his grandsire, fitting though it may be.”  The glow floated to the top of the warehouse and hovered there, appearing to peer through a set of tiny windows and into the world beyond.  “The supposedly powerful witch is the reason the Slayer’s in the wrong body, shoveling Lucky Charms into her mouth like there’s no tomorrow, in the first place.  The Slayer’s Watcher is hitting on her other friend like some pathetic old geezer.  And the Slayer’s mother – who would be _my_ mother, incidentally – has terrible taste in clothes.  I mean, not to sound like Glory here, but come on.  I don’t care if it’s Seventies Week on Main Street, that outfit should’ve been burned before it even left the factory.”

“The Slayer will not fail,” the monk assured the ball of energy.  “The future has been foreseen.  Do not worry.”

“ _Do not worry_ ,” the ball mimicked, sounding surprisingly like a teenage girl.  “I’m a ball of energy.  What else have I got to do _but_ worry?”

“Worrying will not help,” the monk said.  “Safety is assured.”

“Ugh!  And this pronoun curse!” 

“Still not understanding how The Key may speak normally,” the monk said in equal parts awe and bewilderment.  “All sentient beings are affected but The Key.  Truly a miracle!”

“No, it’s because I’m not really talking at all.  I’m just projecting ideas and...”

“But the ideas can be clearly interpreted.  The power of The Key is humbling.”

 “You know what?  Just – stop talking until this curse is over.  I can’t take listening to you yammering away, all convoluted and non-sense-making.  Argh!”  The ball of energy dropped rapidly back down to the ground, flashing pulses of bright, angry green.

The monk cowered under the ball’s displeasure, then grabbed up a ball of yarn and two knitting needles and shoved the yarn and needles into the center of the green glow.  “Knitting is said to be very soothing in times of stress,” the monk said.  “Perhaps knitting will be soothing to The Key.”

“You want me to _knit_?” the ball hummed incredulously.  “I’m a freaking glowing green ball of energy!  How the heck do you expect me to knit?”

“The Key is all-powerful and all-wise.  The Key will find a way.  And...”  The monk hesitated for a moment, then said, “If The Key does not calm down, certainly Glory will be attracted to The Key’s emanations of power and find The Key before preparations for protection can be completed.”

“Fine,” the ball hummed sulkily.  The glow contracted, and the needles shifted.  “Just – make sure to set the TV to the local channel.  I don’t want to miss the Riverdance coverage.  Michael Flatley might be a ass, but he’s a talented ass.”

“As The Key wishes,” the monk said.

 


	6. They're Always After Me Lucky Charms

 

They’re Always After Me Lucky Charms

 

 

Buffy had managed to talk Spike into going into the trailer together to wait out the headache, but Buffy could see Spike was still wigged by Buffy’s new body.  “Need more blood?” Buffy asked, resolved to try harder and show Spike how still the same Buffy was.  “Could run to the butcher to get some more blood.  Or maybe bring a nice, juicy, tender animal full of blood to eat?  Or... or whiskey?  Want whiskey?”

“No, mate,” Spike said with a sigh.  “Just stop, okay?  Tired, here.  Got a big performance later, and long days on the road aren’t helping matters.” 

Buffy watched Spike stare out the window.  Spike looked so tired and sad, Buffy’s eyes welled with tears.  Buffy couldn’t understand not wanting to Riverdance, but Spike obviously didn’t.  Standing, Buffy said,   “Buffy will destroy the contract and save Spike.  Have no fear.”

“Appreciate the thought, Slayer.  Right kind, in fact.  But the contract is sealed in blood.  Doubt the contract can be broken.”

“Buffy will find a way!” Buffy said determinedly.  “Just wait and see.”

Spike leaned back, eyes closed, as Buffy stormed to the door.  “Good luck, then.  And... thanks.”

Buffy paused.  “Happier now?”

Spike nodded.

Lower lip caught between teeth, Buffy-in-Riley stepped closer to Spike and looked down, shy.  “Maybe a kiss for luck?”

Spike jerked backward, sporting a look of horror.  “Sorry, mate, don’t swing that way!”

Buffy harrumphed.  “Did _not_ expect a vampire to be so prejudiced!  Did not expect rejection from a vampire for being a Slayer stuck in a man’s body!  Catch up to the 1990’s!”

“ _Not_ the issue.  Male, female, female stuck in a male’s body – makes no nevermind to a vampire.  Just ask Angelus,” Spike said, with a bit of a leer.  “No, being with the _Slayer_ is the issue.  Have a rep to think of, here.  Slayers are for killing, nothing more, and wanting to do any actions other than killing with a Slayer would be _wrong_.”

“Spike doesn’t like _Buffy?_ ” Buffy said in a small voice. 

“Mortal enemies, don’t forget!” Spike said, exasperated.  When Buffy’s lower lip wobbled, Spike sighed.  “Oh, no.  No, no, no.  Don’t cry, pet.  Nothing wrong with Buffy, all right?  Spike’s just cranky.”  Spike patted Buffy’s large and manly hand.  “There, there.  Gonna be okay.”

Buffy gave Spike a watery smile, shoulders straightening with newfound determination.  “Everything will, just as soon as that contract is voided.  Be back soon!”

“Don’t rush,” Spike muttered.

Outside, Buffy strode forward, enjoying the ability to cover ground quickly with such large strides.  Humming, “Where the Streets Have no Name,” Buffy headed for the show director’s trailer.  Before Buffy could get there, Buffy was distracted by a squeaky voice shouting, “Buffy!  Buffy!”

Buffy stopped and looked around. 

“Buffy!” the voice shouted again, and then Buffy felt a tug on the pants.

Buffy looked down.  And gasped.  “A leprechaun?  A leprechaun for Buffy?  How a- _dor_ -able!”  Buffy scooped the leprechaun up and cuddled the leprechaun close.  “Buffy will cherish this leprechaun forever!”

“No!” the leprechaun squeaked.  “Buffy, listen closely, dammit.  Not a leprechaun.  Angel!”

Buffy held the leprechaun at arm’s length.  “Tiny green suit, tiny buckle shoes, tiny beard, tiny green hat... and no wings.  Nope.  Leprechaun, not angel.  Poor, confused leprechaun.  Don’t worry, Buffy will take good care of the poor, confused leprechaun,” Buffy said reassuringly.

“No, no, no.  Angel the _vampire_ , not an angel with wings.  Just like Buffy looks like a man, but is still Buffy.  A curse!”

Buffy peered more closely at the leprechaun, and was surprised to see the leprechaun did sport a resemblance to Angel beneath the beard and the clothes.  “Leprechaun Angel!  How a- _dor_ -able!”  Buffy shook a finger at Leprechaun Angel.  “ _Not_ a curse.  Good fortune!”

With a headshake, Angel insisted, “A _curse_ , Buffy.  Dru’s curse.” 

“Dru is a genius,” Buffy said.  “How did Leprechaun Angel know where to find Buffy?  Now Buffy can kiss Angel’s sweet Irish lips!”  Buffy tried to suit action to words, but ended up drenching the tiny Angel leprechaun with saliva.

“Please stop!”  Angel wiped away the slobber with a grimace.  “Angel went looking for Buffy at Giles’ house and found Willow.  Willow explained how Buffy became a man, and showed a photo of the man to look for.  Trying to find Spike too, but found Buffy first.  Have a solution for Spike’s problem, and for the leprechaun problem.”

Buffy perked up.  “Spike?  Spike is easy to find.  And Spike is a Riverdancer,” Buffy said breathlessly.  “But Spike doesn’t want to be a dancer...  Spike says to dance is a punishment.”

“Dru’s punishment,” Angel agreed.  “Buffy, don’t doubt that being a Riverdancer is the ultimate in torture for Spike,” Angel said, expression turning guilty.

“But why?” Buffy said, perplexed.

Angel’s head hung low.  “Because Angelus used to enjoy torturing Spike... by forcing Spike to dance Irish jigs.”

 


	7. Add a Little Irish to Your Game

 

Add a Little Irish to Your Game

 

 

Standing on Buffy’s hand just outside Spike’s trailer door, Angel said, “Thanks for the directions.  And, uh, the lift.”  When Buffy continued to hold Angel’s small body close to Buffy’s non-bosom-ly chest, Angel added, “Go ahead and go.  Got this situation covered.”

With a headshake, Buffy said, “Probably should stay and help.   Just in case.”

“No, no, the reversal for the curses is... uh... simple.  Go on.  Meet up later.”

Buffy didn’t want to leave – Leprechaun Angel and Riverdancing Spike together?  All Buffy’s dreams had come true – but Angel was insistent.  Buffy set Angel down outside Spike’s door, and turned to go. 

Buffy had walked all the way back to the fence when Angel’s squeaky little leprechaun voice called out, “Uh, Buffy?  Little help?”

Buffy turned around, and had to stifle a laugh.  Angel jumped as high as possible, but still couldn’t reach the door handle.  And Angel’s knocking wasn’t loud enough to be heard over Spike’s music.  Buffy hurried back and scooped Angel up, and banged on the door.

“Thanks,” Angel muttered. 

Buffy nuzzled Angel closer.

Spike opened the door.  “Back so soon?”  Spike’s eyes drifted to the glowering leprechaun.  “What the hell?”

“The leprechaun is Angel!” Buffy said helpfully. 

“Angel?”  Spike’s smile grew bigger and bigger, and turned into a laugh.  “Angel?  Angel is a –”

“Don’t say –” Angel growled.

“Angel is a –”

“Don’t say –”

“Angel is a wee little leprechaun man!” Spike howled.

Angel leapt from Buffy’s hand and flew at Spike, fists and obscenities flying.  Spike fell from the force of the impact, still howling with laughter.

“Fighting Irish,” Buffy said happily.  “No need for Notre Dame shirt after all.”  Buffy thought about stepping in and stopping the fight, but the fight was too amusing.  And... _sexy_.  “Maybe there should be oil involved,” Buffy mused.

“Listen,” Angel said.  Angel had pinned Spike’s head to the floor, tiny fists wrapped in Spike’s hair.  Spike was too busy laughing to put up a struggle.  “Want to end Dru’s Riverdance contract or not?”

“Don’t know,” Spike said, still grinning.  “Does Dru’s way of ending the contract cancel the Riverdance contract without reversing the leprechaun curse?  Slayer here was willing to find a way to end the contract.  Could wait and see what solution the Slayer digs up.  Angel the leprechaun is a thing of beauty, and can’t see any need to end such a curse.”

Buffy agreed with Spike – leprechaun Angel was a- _dor_ -able –  but Angel didn’t.  Buffy didn’t want Angel to be sad any more than Buffy wanted Spike to be sad...  “Spike,” Buffy said.  “Be nice.  Not going to find a solution to the Riverdance contract after all.  Don’t want to help a meanie!”

“Vampire, here.  Supposed to be mean!”

Buffy glared.

“Oh, all right.  How does this reversal work, then?” Spike said to Angel.

Angel looked at Buffy.  “Er... the cure is... er... private.”

Spike raised an eyebrow.  So did Buffy. 

“The cure requires... intimacy,” Angel choked out.

Spike started to protest, then sighed.  “Of course.  Dru’s idea of a laugh, right?  Get the kit off, then.”  With nimble fingers, Spike began to undo the white shirt’s buttons.

“Intimacy?” Buffy said, too distracted by Spike’s actions to understand what Angel had meant.  The implication came clear, and Buffy blushed.  “Oh...”  A naughty idea popped into Buffy’s head, and wouldn’t leave.  “Buffy stay and help!” Buffy said firmly.

“Buffy...” Angel protested.  “Please leave.”

“Nuh uh.  No way.”

“Look mate, if push came to shove, maybe doing the deed with a Slayer wouldn’t be so bad,” Spike said to Buffy-in-Riley.  “But tall and bland does nothing for the libido, catch the drift?  At the risk of sounding like Angel – please leave.”

Buffy scooped Angel up and nuzzled Angel close, then ran a finger down Spike’s now-bare chest.  “Buffy help... please?” Buffy said, batting eyelashes for good measure.

Spike looked at Angel.  Angel looked at Spike.  Spike shrugged and said, “Makes no difference.  Might even be... interesting.”

 Angel sighed.  “Today will never be spoken of again, agreed?” Angel said.

Buffy smiled, and remembered to set Angel down before clapping hands with excitement.

Buffy had removed the green cap and shirt, and was working on the green shoelaces when there was a loud pounding at the door.  “Is Buffy there?  Open up!” Willow called out.

Buffy’s head went side to side: no no no.  Not now, not when today was about to get very... _interesting_.

“Liam Neeson wants to talk to you, Buffy,” Xander said.  “He says he has something to tell you, and it can’t wait.  He’s right here, but he’s going to have to leave if you don’t hurry!”

Liam Neeson!  The most amazing actor _ever_!  Buffy put hand to mouth, torn. 

“Go on,” Angel said.  “Be right here when get back.”

Spike nodded fervently.  Buffy’s eyes narrowed.  Was the expression on Spike’s face relief?

“Hurry, Buffster!” Xander said.  “He’s got to leave real soon!  And he brought green beer.  Just for you!”  Xander sniffed loudly.  “He smells like Irish Spring!”

Buffy jumped up.  “Hold on, hold on!”   Buffy hurried to the door and went outside, then looked around.  Buffy didn’t see any delicious-smelling Liam Neeson.  Or any delicious-tasting green beer.  Only Xander, Giles, Willow, and Riley-in-Buffy.  “Where’s Liam Neeson?”

“Sorry, Buff, we had to find some way to get you out of there,” Xander said.  Xander ignored Giles’ wandering hand and murmured, _“Keep talking, Xander.  Don’t stop.”_   Giles’ hand went lower, and Xander jumped.  “Um.  Right.  Heh heh.  So, listen, good news: we found a way to reverse the body-swap.”

“Oh!” Buffy said.  Good news indeed.  If Buffy was in _Buffy_ , and not in Riley, Spike and Angel might be more excited about letting Buffy... help.  Buffy hurried over to Riley.  “Okay.  Do it!”

Willow nodded, then began to chant and wave bundles of herbs, with Xander’s help.

Buffy shifted impatiently from foot to foot, too distracted by the noises coming from Spike’s trailer – loud enough to be heard over Spike’s Irish Rovers CD! – to pay attention to the reversal spell.  But the spell must have worked, because when Buffy woke back up – success!  Buffy was in Buffy’s body!  Buffy stretched, and sighed with relief.  “And the pronoun curse?” Buffy said to Willow after assuring Xander, Willow, and Giles that the reversal had worked.

“Still working on that problem,” Willow said.

Riley stirred and sat up.

“Oh, good,” Buffy said to Riley.  “Everything okay?  Back to normal?”  When Riley nodded, Buffy held out a hand to shake and said, “Hope to meet again under better circumstances.  Excuse the rushing off, but must go help Angel and Spike now.”

Buffy waved to the other people, then hurried back into Spike’s trailer.  Taking in the scene, Buffy smiled.  “Just in time...”

“Buffy?” Angel the leprechaun asked, eyes lighting up.

“Buffy,” Buffy agreed.  “Body-swap all fixed.”

Spike’s eyes trailed up and down Buffy’s body.  “Then get on over here and... help,” Spike purred.

“Don’t mind if do,” Buffy said.  “But... ugh.  What the hell is this music?  The Irish Rovers?  _Yuck_.”

 


	8. Epilogue:  All's Well that Ends Spuffy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, this is it. *wipes brow* Challenge requirements at the end of the chapter. Thanks for coming along on this ride!

 

All’s Well that Ends Spuffy

 

 

The glowing green ball of energy zipped from one end of the warehouse to the other, leaving a trail of knitted stockings in the ball’s wake.  “Oh no.  No, no, no.  Everything is terrible!” the ball hummed, louder and louder, until the hum reaching ear-splitting levels. 

The monks shoved fingers into ears.

The ball stopped zipping to stare into the scrying glass, where an image of Xander and Giles had formed.  Giles was sitting on a couch with Xander, Xander’s head in Giles’ lap.  Giles stroked Xander’s hair, and said, “Continue, please.”

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine...” Xander sang.

“Change it!” the ball screeched.

The monk shook the scrying glass, and a new image appeared.  Joyce, still in a lime green pantsuit, bent over to take a dish out of the oven.  “Riley’s favorite,” Joyce said proudly, leaning in to smell the Lucky Charms - Irish soda bread - potato - corned beef casserole.  “And now for the final touch...”  Joyce poured a healthy dollop of Bailey’s Irish Cream over the top, and carried the concoction out to the dining room.  “Dinner is served,” Joyce said to Riley.

“Smells delicious, Mrs. Summers,” Riley replied. 

“What?!  How does he even know her?” the balled shrieked.  “No!  It’s all wrong!”

The monk shrugged, and shook the scrying glass again.  This time the glass showed Willow and the English professor together, surrounded by white candles, holding hands and chanting.  “Perhaps the pronoun curse _was_ a silly idea,” the professor said.  The professor leaned closer to Willow, and squeezed Willow’s hands.  “Never realized magic could be so _sexy_ ,” the professor breathed in Willow’s ear.  “Must’ve been doing magic wrong all this time.”

Eyes reflecting the candlelight, Willow shivered.

“Arghh!” the ball screamed.

“More yarn?” a monk asked.

The yarn disappeared into the green glow, and the sound of clacking needles accompanied the discordant humming.  “Fine.  I’m ready.  I’m calm.  Totally calm,” the glow said.  “Show me Buffy.”

The monk shook the scrying glass, and a new scene appeared.

The clacking stopped.  “The world is so fucked,” The Key said.

 

 

_Meanwhile, in a trailer on the other side of town..._

 

With Angel tied up in Spike’s bathtub, pending verification that no souls had been lost in the process of the curse reversal, Spike and Buffy passed the time in the bedroom in new and increasingly creative ways. 

Spike spooned marshmallow creme onto Buffy’s stomach, and then licked the sticky mess clean.

“Mmmm,” Buffy hummed.  “Curse reversals are fun.”

“Get no arguments here.”

“Spike.”  Buffy sat up and looked Spike in the eye, fully serious.  “And after today?  Planning to go back to a life of mayhem and violence?”

Spike shrugged.  “Don’t rightly know what the future holds for ol’ Spike, pet.  Other than no more bloody _clogging_.”

“Oh,” Buffy said, disappointed.  A moment had been shared – more than a moment.  Much, _much_ more than a moment.  And now Buffy couldn’t imagine going back to being enemies with Spike.  “Planning to go back to Drusilla?”

“No,” Spike said.  “After the curse Dru did...”  Spike shuddered. “Dru’s punishment was over the line.  Unforgivable.  Think things with Dru are done for good.”

Buffy felt a thrill of hope.  “Angel will be going back to Los Angeles,” Buffy said.  “Once untied.” 

Spike searched Buffy’s face.  “No more Buffy and Angel forever?”

“A future is hard to imagine,” Buffy said.  “Especially when Angel has to be tied up afterwards every time, just in case.  Probably would get old really fast.”

“Could just keep the lout tied up,” Spike said.  “Permanently.”

With identical expressions of interest, Spike and Buffy contemplated Spike’s proposal.  Then Buffy sighed.  “Pretty sure good guys don’t keep boyfriends chained up in a bathtub.”

“But what about bad guys?” Spike said with an eyebrow waggle.

Buffy giggled, then turned serious again.  “Angel has a new life.  A life without Buffy.  Angel has to leave.  But... bad guys could stay in Sunnydale.  And... maybe not be so bad?  Maybe... maybe even work _with_ the good guys?”

“Hmm,” Spike said, decorating Buffy’s stomach with another swirl of sticky goodness.  “Have to think on this proposition.  The benefits package is mighty tempting.”

“Better than Riverdancing, right?”

“Much, much better,” Spike agreed, and leaned down to lick Buffy clean.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Challenge Requirements, as given by Puddinhead:
> 
> Due to a spell gone bad, Buffy is placed into Riley's body. Also, she has a serious fixation for all things Irish. Lucky Charms, Irish Spring, U-2. Spike comes to town as an understudy for Lord of the Dance - those Irish Clogging/Stomping people that make you want to hurt yourself. Buffy, as Riley, tries to charm him. This will culminate in a freaky 3-way with a leprechaun.
> 
> Must have: side story with a Xander-Giles love connection, Joyce needs to wear a lime green pantsuit and Dawn will become proficient at knitting.
> 
> Cannot have: pronouns.
> 
> Should be 7 chapters long with an epilogue that features marshmallow creme.
> 
>  
> 
> Check, check, check and check!


End file.
